


Dearest Lucifer

by PetrichorPerfume



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Blasphemy, Epistolary, Letters, Loss of Faith, M/M, Michael's Point of View, sin - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-20
Updated: 2014-10-20
Packaged: 2018-02-21 21:04:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 1,112
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2482370
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PetrichorPerfume/pseuds/PetrichorPerfume
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i> Forgive me, brother, for I have sinned. </i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Dearest Lucifer

**Author's Note:**

> Based on the headcannon that angels recognize each other by markings on their wings.

Dearest Lucifer,

 

Forgive me, brother, for I have sinned. Today, I sat across from you and allowed myself to speak falsehoods and called them, “Truth.” I painted your wings with lie after lie, tiny pin-prick points of light that betray your true destiny and speak of dreams and hope and love, rather than faith and righteousness and divinity.

 

(Sometimes I wonder if I am the agent of your Fall. If perhaps by trying so hard to keep you pure, to build your faith, to lead you to righteousness, I am merely pushing you away faster. If your destiny is only pre-determined because of the mistakes I am making in trying to prevent it.)

 

I took your hand and I said, “Brother, I have seen your destiny, and it is Good, and it is Holy, and it is Pure. Your name means Light Bringer, and today is the day that your being will reflect that in every way.”

 

(My wings will always be white, and white alone. Unpainted, untainted, pure. It is my destiny, for my name means ‘Who is like God?’ and my wings are the answer. No one, and nothing, because our Father is invisible, and unknowable, and unthinkable, yet pure and good and full of light.)

 

I dipped my hands into the Holy pigments and I smiled at you as I begun my work, staining your wings the bluest of blues with colors taken from the firmament itself. In an instant, it became my favorite color, even more so than the Holy color of pure, heavenly white. That was my second sin, but I will not plead your forgiveness, or that of anyone, because you are beautiful in my eyes and always have been, and I am not ashamed to confess that I hold your newly painted wings in similarly high esteem.

 

(I know you feel the same way, brother. And I’m sorry, truly, deeply, _wholly_ sorry, for that is your sin just as much as it is mine; it is our sin, but only you are destined to Fall for it.)

 

Then I put the stars in your wings, bright sapphire and brilliant gold and rich ruby, every color of every star and every star in every galaxy in every universe. That was my third and final sin, brother, for as I gazed upon my work I was awed and humbled and I closed my eyes and raised my voice in prayer even though I knew that you, Grace-filled as you may be with your starry wings and glowing halo, are anything but Holy.

 

But you are Holy to me, and that, beloved brother, is my greatest sin of all.

 

Forever yours,

 

Michael


	2. Dearest Gabriel

Dearest Gabriel,

 

I swore to myself that I’d never lie again. I promised you, I promised Lucifer, I promised all of Heaven. But I suppose that’s the fault in lying – you can never tell just one lie, repent, and expect to be sinless. One lie leads to one hundred thousand.

 

(I’m beginning to think that this is why my wings will remain white. Because this is my destiny – to lie, and to sin, and to pray for forgiveness that never comes. My name is a question, and my wings tell all that it will go unanswered.)

 

I painted the word for ‘messenger’ along the spine of every feather, and I fashioned a horn about the tip of each one, telling you all the while, “You are destined to announce our salvation.”

 

That’s the word I used, knowing – not thinking, not believing, _knowing,_ for I have _seen_ things I will spend the rest of my existence regretting – that you are destined to announce not salvation, not redemption, but destruction, and war, and carnage, and ruination.

 

The blowing of your horn will never herald a new beginning, or a Heaven on Earth, as I led you to believe. Your trumpet will signal the end of the days.

 

I did not mean to lie to you, Gabriel. I swear it, before all who would listen. I meant to tell you the truth, to take you into my arms and say, “You are destined to make known to all the beginning of the Apocalypse,” but you looked up at me with such earnestly, and such eagerness, and such _love_ that I would not – could not – destroy your happiness.

 

I may have lied about the meaning of your wings, Gabriel, but I promise you that I did not paint them with the self-same lies. I did not make that mistake again, but I know – because I have seen so, so much – that you will take those lies, and see them as evidence of others.

 

I love you, little brother, and though that may seem a lie in the eons to come, I swear to you that it is the only truth I know. 

 

All my love,

 

Michael


	3. Dearest Raphael

Dearest Raphael,

 

Is it a sin to lie by omission? I did not speak falsely to you, nor did I mislead you. I painted your wings as your name demands, for you are the one God ordains to Heal.

 

You didn’t ask your fate, though, and I did not tell you. I did not say to you – you, who desires nothing more than peace and joy, you who spends your days helping our brothers and your nights in feverish prayer, you who told me you could not stand the thought that murder existed in our Father’s perfect Creation – that you would fight alongside me in the approaching War, that you would murder and kill and slay and become everything you’d ever despised.

 

I did not lie, Raphael, but I did not speak the truth either, because I have seen what that truth does to you, and I do not think it a sin to wish to preserve your happiness and your peace for the scant years we have left before destiny descends like brutal nightfall around us and claims all of our dreams and punishes all of our sins with the same merciless hand of inevitable fate that will the ruination of us all.

 

Loving, peaceful, merciful brother, I may have sinned, but just this once, I am not sorry. 

 

Love,

 

Michael


	4. Dearest Castiel

Dearest Castiel,

 

I lied to Lucifer. I lied to Raphael. I lied to Gabriel.

 

I did not lie to you. I could not, for your destiny demanded nothing more and nothing less than brutal honesty to be set into motion.

 

_“I forgive you, for you will sin. And through that sin, you will be the salvation of all that has been ruined, and the ruination of all that is too late to be saved. And for that, brother, I am sorry.”_

 

~~Michael~~


End file.
